I will color
the sky, grieving for the
departed moon.
*
Tossing my words
onto the lake, to bring back
my baby pink.
*
Night I had woven
a gold pattern on the bed.
Memory will know.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: May 8th, 2018 19:53
- Category: Nature
- Views: 27
- Users favorite of this poem: Laura🌻
Offline)
Comments1
Astonishingly so!
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